"It's for your cramps, or fits, or whatever you've got, Peleg." "Cramps, or fits? I ain't got no cramps or fits! Are you crazy, Mrs. Green?" "Oh, Peleg, don't act so! You certainly have cramps, or indigestion. Come, take the medicine!" "That fer your medicine!" roared the angry man-of-all-work, and flung the bottle into the bonfire. "Oh, that medicine!" shrieked the matron. "And I made it myself, too!" "It's them pesky boys, Mrs. Green! They be a-tormenting the life out of me." "The boys?" The matron stopped short in wonder. "Yes, mum. They've stolen my shoes and socks, and they started to brand me with a red-hot poker. I ain't got no fits, nur cramps, nur nuthin', I ain't!" "Well, I declare!" burst out the thoroughly angry matron. "Tom Rover, come here!" "Thank you, Mrs. Green, I'll come day after to-morrow!" murmured Tom, as he kept at a safe distance. "Well, I guess you are all in this together," went on Mrs. Green, looking at the crowd of cadets. "It's your last night and I suppose you will tear the academy down over our ears." "Why, Mrs. Green, we never do anything wrong," said Sam, reproachfully. "Oh, no, of course not," was the sarcastic answer. "I'll be thankful to find myself alive after you are all gone." And with this reply the matron bounced off into the kitchen, where she slammed the door after her. "Here are your shoes, Peleg," said George Granbury, as he handed them over. "I want my socks first." "Here you are," came from Larry Colby. As Larry's term as major was now over he was inclined to be as full of fun as anybody. Peleg took his socks and his shoes and started to put on the former. "Hullo, what's this!" he cried, and shook one foot violently. "What's in that sock! A grasshopper, I declare! Larry Colby, did you do that?" "Why, Peleg, you know I never play any jokes," answered the ex-major, innocently. "Don't I, though! But never mind." The general-utility man started to put on the other sock. "If you think--Great snakes, what's this? Oh, my foot! A hop-toad! Beastly!" And Peleg flung the toad at Larry. The ex-major dodged and the animal struck William Philander Tubbs full in the face. "Oh, ah--what do you--ah--mean by such actions!" stormed the aristocratic cadet. "I shall report this." "Hurrah, Tubby has gone into the frog-raising business," shouted Tom, merrily. "I shan't put nuthin' on here," went on Peleg Snuggers, and watching his chance, he ran off at top speed, with his shoes in one hand and his socks in the other. CHAPTER VIII GOOD-BYE TO PUTNAM HALL "Now, Songbird, give us one of your best poetical effusions," came from Dick Rover, after the excitement had died down a little. "We haven't heard a word out of you for fourteen minutes and a quarter." "Yes, Songbird, turn on the poetry spigot and let her flow," put in Tom. "Give us something on old schooldays," came from another cadet. "Put in a touch of last farewells," added another.